


Dancing With Fire

by Lurkinginthecorner



Series: Dancing With Fire [1]
Category: Hunger Games (2012) RPF, Josh Hutcherson - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, jennifer lawrence - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1723136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkinginthecorner/pseuds/Lurkinginthecorner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One playful week and one crazy night that push Josh and Jennifer to risk revealing the secret they've been hiding for so long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing With Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This fic incorporates some lyrics from Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" and Missy Elliot's "Work It".

**JOSH’S POV**

We first begin to lose control of the situation the day we forget that our brand-new, foreign set is located in a very public place.

On this beautiful afternoon of May, as we wait between takes, we start to fool around as usual. We chase each other across the land. We play the circle game. She pulls silly faces at me, making me crack up for minutes at a time. I pretend to have some piece of my lunch stuck in between my teeth and she offers to guess what it is – by shoving her face on the side of my cheek and taking a sniff.

This is all common practice for us. Our set games have progressively involved more intimate contacts the more movies we filmed together, the more interviews we recorded together, the more time we allowed ourselves to share together in private. It’s become a normal routine, the cast and crew are used to it – although I seem to catch someone glancing in our direction with a teasing smile every day – and the little we held back at the beginning has completely faded over time. We’re like two children, running around the set, going into tickle fights, pretending to lick each other like cats, inventing stupid games to pass the time.

Only the few people closest to us – our close families and friends, our publicists, the main cast, Francis, some of the crew, the producers, and the CEO’s of Lionsgate – know the truth about us. And we’re aware that we should be more careful, but we’ve been used to working on closed sets, only having to deal with the occasional presence of a group of extras staring at us in awe, trying to catch a glimpse, a revealing interaction that would hint that there’s more between us than just a deep friendship.

I know they call us “Joshifer”. I like the way it sounds to my ears. Like “Brangelina”, but prettier, because it sounds like her name, and it immediately reminds me of her. Brings me back somehow to the time when I was the one to have a crush on her, but she still loved her boyfriend. Maybe it’s because I heard the word for the first time at one of the premieres for _The Hunger Games_. I always found it weird that strangers could feel so invested in our love lives, but then again, I knew we weren’t the first pair of co-stars that people would have liked to see together. However, we both knew very well what could happen to us if we ever went that route: a circus, with the tabloids and paparazzi on our backs all the time for juicy details about our private lives.

This is the main reason why we swore early on in our friendship that it would never become anything more. We eventually broke that promise when she first became single, but we quickly decided to keep our budding relationship on the casual side.

After completing the last reshoots for _Catching Fire_ , we went our separate ways. It lasted almost eight months, during which she ran back to her boyfriend and I found a girlfriend, until we came to the conclusion that our feelings for one another would always be crossing the line of friendship, and that our mutual desire wasn’t driven by pure lust, but rather by a deep attraction and connection to each other.

We were screwed.

Things have never been very serious with Claudia. At first, we decided to dive into a relationship because we were both heartbroken from other people – her from her ex-boyfriend, me from my brief fling with Jen – and needed comfort to move on. It developed into a strong friendship, still assorted with sexual benefits, and both of us found something good in playing boyfriend/girlfriend for a while.

But it was always clear, for me as well as for her, that I couldn’t truly forget Jen. At least, not as long as I would work so closely with her. And so when I finally found myself spending days at a time with Jen once again before the press tour for _Catching Fire_ and the real place my feelings laid became clear, I came to the conclusion that there would never be anything more than friendship between Claudia and me.

It was as if Jen and I had never been apart. Our usual chemistry was back in full force, and so was the immense sexual tension, the strong current that we were both dying to experiment with, the memories of what we both knew was way more than just a casual relationship lingering tantalizingly between us.

That’s when she let me know that she had realized her feelings for him had faded in time. And that I seemed to have woven a permanent spot in her heart – in his place.

We were ready. Only, it wasn’t that simple. There was the grim possibility of having our blossoming relationship tainted by the media looming over our heads. But we ultimately decided to go back on our promise – and tried it anyway.

We’ve been hiding it pretty well so far... until now.

The day over, I lie down on the couch of my Parisian hotel room with Jen sprawled on her back, resting along my torso, watching TV distractedly while digging into the bag of chips sitting on her chest. As I drop a light kiss on top of her head, my phone’s ringtone coming off all of a sudden startles me.

“Fuck, I left it on the dresser,” I sigh as she makes no move to shift her body so I can stand up. “Jen?”

“Never mind, they’ll call back or leave a message,” she suggests, shoving a piece of chips in her mouth.

I shake my head and gently push her off me.

“No. It could be important. Hold on.”

I finally get up from the couch and walk to the dresser, where I pick up the phone and take a look at the ID.

It’s my publicist. Usually, she only calls to let me know that I have an interview scheduled or give me details about an upcoming event. And we’re in the middle of filming – our next event is the Cannes party next weekend, but since she’ll walk the press line next to me, she has no reason to call me about this.

My heart starts beating faster as I lift the phone to my ear and answer the call.

“Hello, Melissa!” I say, trying to keep a playful voice, as if I wasn’t in trouble. Because if she’s calling for no reason, it has to be because I screwed up, somehow.

“Hi, Josh,” she says on a neutral tone that has me even more confused.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, knowing full well that there has to be something wrong.

“Josh...” I sense her hesitation over the phone. “Were you aware that there were paparazzi near the set?”

“Well, yes, we see them every morning, and sometimes during the day too.” I look down at the pearly-white carpet, slightly leaning against the dresser for support. “But most of the set is surrounded by these apartments, right? And the people living there don’t have good enough equipment to get good shots from afar, so... wait, what are you trying to tell me?”

“They’ve been taking HQ pics every day you’ve been filming. But today, they got a... well, a pretty bizarre shot? Of Jennifer leaning into your face...” she lowers her tone. “Josh, you guys haven’t been kissing in the open, have you?”

“No, of course not!” I exclaim, turning to face Jen, who’s staring at me with a confused expression. “Never at work, even when the set is closed off and there are no extras. But... oh.”

“What?”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose in defeat, before explaining to her our brief encounter after lunch. I figure the exact moment that she connects the picture with the incident when she gasps loudly.

“Is it that bad?” I ask.

“No, I mean... it looks a little like she’s kissing your cheek, but the angle is weird. But no matter what it looks like, it’s too late, the Daily Mail has already bought the pictures and run a story.”

“Oh, fuck... Does that mean...” I stall, terrified to ask. “Our cover is blown?”

Jennifer’s eyes get wide. I shake my head at her, trying to be reassuring as I attempt to keep hope that we didn’t mess up that badly.

“Not really. That’s where you’re lucky. They didn’t speculate much, only claimed she was kissing you on the cheek. They even name-dropped Nick. No, you’re fine on that front. But... you both know this place is full of paps... You really need to be careful from now on. There might be more speculation over the next few days, especially with the scenes you’re about to shoot...”

I look down as I try to remember what’s on the call sheet for the next few days. It’s pretty simple, really: it’s just the next few scenes in the script, which consist of Boggs’s death and Peeta’s attempt at murdering Katniss. Two very emotional scenes, one of which will involve close contact with Jen.

“Yeah, I know. We’ll be careful. Anything else?”

I sense her hesitation.

“Well... you might want to tone it down at the festival too. We don’t want to fuel the rumors if we can avoid it. At the photocall, keep a distance from her. The photographers will surely ask for pictures of you with her and Liam, but other than that, when you’re with the rest of the cast, don’t stand next to her. Try to hide your chemistry as much as you can.”

I actually hear the smile in her voice, but I can’t help the pang of disappointment in my chest.

I know that it’s for the best. That we’re doing damage control. And that too many people – ourselves, first and foremost - need our behavior to be perfect for the image we have to project. But it stings anyway. I’m so tired of hiding.

“Okay,” I agree in defeat. “What about the party?”

“There shouldn’t be many photographers around. And you’ll have a VIP room. You should be okay.”

“Alright. Thank you Melissa. I’m sorry we messed up.”

“It could have been worse!” she chuckles. “Come on, enjoy Paris! See you in a few days!”

I smile, say goodbye and hang up. As I make my way back to the couch, my phone buzzes again, this time with a message. I check it as I sit next to Jen, and she leans over my shoulder to read it at the same time as I do.

It’s a simple link, sent by my publicist. The link to the article.

I lightly tap it and we wait for it to load.

“It’s just a tabloid,” I say in a low voice. She circles my waist with her arms and drops her chin in the crook of my neck. “And Melissa says they don’t even try to imply anything about us. You’re safe.”

“Why do you say that?” she murmurs, pressing her lips gently against my neck. The contact makes me shiver.

“Why do I say what?” I look at her, my lips set in a straight line.

“That I’m the one who’s safe.”

“Because you’re the one who’s got the most to lose. It’s not good for your image to be attached to the short guy from the teen franchise-“

“Stop it, hun,” she interrupts me, her tone exceptionally serious. “You know I don’t care about that.”

I sigh.

“I know. But I do, ok? I want the best for you.”

“And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened in my life,” she says with a smile, before leaning in for a kiss. Our lips briefly touch before I pull away to answer her cheesy statement.

“How about an Oscar?”

She grins.

“You’re so much better than an Oscar.” She grabs my face and plants another kiss on my lips, before whispering. “Love you.”

I reply in a low voice.

“I love you.”

We both look down at the article, which has since finished loading, and immediately see the picture. I zoom it with my fingers and sigh. They caught us at the right moment, just as her lips were making contact with my skin. Of course, the whole pretense was just a silly game, but anyone who’s minimally familiar with our antics know that most of the time, these games are just an excuse for us to get as much as we can from the other. An opportunity to touch each other, to play with fire, to act as close to a real couple as we can.

I mean, we are a real couple, but we can only be ourselves in private. We can’t afford to show affection in public like a normal couple would. It gets heavy, at times. And Jen’s bubbly habits often make it hard to contain her energy. That’s how we figured out that we could fulfill this need that we had to be close to each other in the open, without revealing our secret, by masking it as childish games.

And so in that moment her lips touched the corner of my mouth, she had taken a sniff for the gallery, but in reality, it was just an excuse for us to get physical. We’d been apart for lunch because she had to film and I was off. Lunch time in that location was spent under the scrutiny of many witnesses, and so even if she’d been there, we couldn’t have cuddled together anyway.

“Well...” I start, shifting my gaze from the phone to her face, and she shrugs.

“They can say whatever the fuck they want. Do you really think anyone will believe I’m kissing you there?”

“Well... you actually were, Jen,” I chuckle. “Just not exactly on the lips, but...”

“Yeah, well, that photo is awkward. It’s the only media that said something?”

I nod.

“According to Melissa, so far, yes.”

“I bet it will be the only one.”

I bite my lip. She immediately senses my discomfort and runs her pointer finger on my cheek, tenderly.

“Josh?”

“She said we need to keep it low, or we’ll blow our cover.”

She looks up sharply, her expression puzzled.

“She’s right, Jen,” I explain, casually dropping a hand on her thigh. “We’ve been taking risks all that time. If we don’t start being more careful... it’s just a matter of time before we out ourselves and it snowballs.”

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me, before whispering in her ear.

“Are you ready to deal with this, if it had to happen soon? Are you ready to be called a cheater if the story comes out before your breakup announcement?”

She pulls away slowly and stares into my eyes for a moment, seeming deeply lost in her thoughts, before taking me by surprise by giving me a gentle nod of the head.

“I don’t care what people think,” she speaks softly. “You and I, and the people around us know the truth. It’s all that matters.”

“Well, I care. I’m not afraid to be called a cheater myself, Claudia isn’t really famous. And we haven’t been seen together for a while. But you?”

I shake my head lightly. She looks down; I think she knows that I’m right. I take her face in my hands to compel her to look at me.

“You’re doing a great job so far,” I say, locking my gaze with hers. “Everyone believes your relationship with him is still legit. Maybe you don’t care... but I know you better than that, Jen. And anyway... no one likes being called a cheater. Even if you know it’s not true. The truth is... fuck, I don’t want this shit to happen to you.”

She finally nods, before curling up against my body. I lean into the cushions, pulling her on top of me, and she sighs.

“Okay. I’ll tone it down.”

“At the photocall too?”

“I’ll try to.”

“Okay.”

As I try to focus my attention back on the TV, she shifts on top of me, until her hand rests on my cheek and I start feeling her lips gently sucking on the skin of my neck. I close my eyes and rub her back softly, silently encouraging her to keep going. She hums lightly, her fingers dragging down my cheek as I trail my hand along her back till I can grab her ass.

I sigh in response when she increases the pressure on the spot of my neck she’s chosen to claim as hers. I feel her rub her center on my growing dick, her fingers still caressing my face gently.

“You’re gonna give me a hickey, you know,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Way to go for laying low!”

“That’s what makeup is for, hun,” she replies, before planting her sweet lips on my neck again.

“But I’m not gonna wear makeup at Cannes.”

“It’ll fade, don’t worry.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ve, our main make-up artist, laughs at me for a solid two minutes when she sees me arrive at work the next day.

“If she wanted to mark her territory,” she lets out in between two fits of laughter, “she succeeded!”

“It’s oh so funny,” I say on a fake mocking tone, absentmindedly picking at the reddish spot on my neck. I look at it in the mirror and sigh. “You think it’ll fade before Cannes?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she says, picking up a brush. “If it’s still visible, just leave some hair in that area when you shave. Old trick,” she smiles.

I nod.

“Jennifer isn’t with you?” she adds.

“No. We’re trying to put some distance between us in public,” I explain. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “My publicist’s orders.”

“What happened?”

I heave a sigh, and begin to explain to her our scare with the picture and the article that went along with it. Telling that story, especially after sleeping on it for a night, makes me realize how frustrated I’ve become at the whole situation. How tired I am of hiding, of being careful of my every move, of staying in the shadows while she’s parading everywhere with another man.

I wish I could drop the act just for one night, and let us allow ourselves to act like a real couple. Just for one night.

But it’s impossible.

“You’re in a very tricky situation,” she remarks when I’m done telling the story. “How long are you gonna keep up this charade?”

“We’re supposed to keep it a secret until the last movie is out. Can you believe it? By that time, we’ll have been dating for two years. If we’re still together, of course.”

The thought of us breaking up sends a rush of pain in my chest.

“You think you’ll last until then?”

I’m startled by her words, and I answer her with a single eyebrow raise.

“I don’t mean if you’ll still be together,” she chuckles while shaking her head. “No, I meant, do you think you’ll manage to keep it a secret until then?”

I shrug my shoulders, looking away.

“We have to.”

She doesn’t answer, focusing on applying the foundation to my face instead. I don’t force any more conversation while she puts on the rest of the makeup. When she’s almost finished, Jen joins us in the trailer and walks up to me, dropping a single kiss on my cheek.

“Hey,” I say simply.

“Hi,” she replies, her voice soft, a little raunchy, making me feel tingles all throughout my body.

“You don’t need to hide with me, you know,” Ve grins.

“We’re just so used to it,” I sigh, getting up to leave for the set.

“Josh...”

She tries to catch my arm, but I keep moving.

“See you later.”

 

* * *

 

 

I’m mad.

Mad at myself for being careless yesterday, mad at Jen for going too far in public, mad at the whole media circus for putting a damper on our relationship.

But in a way, it’s a blessing. It helps me to stay away from her, at least for a time.

All morning long, I hang out with Sam, crack jokes with Liam, listen to Natalie’s chatter, observe Francis working to try and take my attention away from Jennifer. It works, until after lunch, when we start actually filming the scene that was on the call today.

The scene where my character attempts to kill Jennifer’s.

It’s a tricky one to film, because I have to grab her and send her to the ground before lunging at her to try and bash her skull with my weapon, and then fighting another actor playing a Squad member, finally letting Sam pull me away from them both. I’m acting the whole scene by myself, but Jen is replaced by Renae, her stunt double, for some parts of the scene.

But I still have to act most of it alongside Jen, and I always hate playing that kind of scene with her, even if we inevitably end up laughing together afterwards. I never know when I’ll get lost so deep in the zone that I’ll actually forget I’m pretending and start to feel what my character is feeling.

In this case, after all the rage and anger and fear, strong guilt and self-loathing.

The first part of the scene we set up to film has Jen waiting on the sidelines, because it involves me grabbing her forcefully to throw her on the ground. And because of the potential for injuries that falling on the grass-covered hard ground implies, Renae is acting the far away shots in place of Jen. Only then will I film close-ups shots on a mat with her.

That’s when it’ll get more emotional for me.

We keep chatting between takes, making sure not to display any kind of affection that could pass for more than friendship. Jen strolls from one actor to another, obviously trying as much as she can to fight the temptation to touch me in a way that would give away the true nature of our relationship. I’m glad for it, and happily focus my attention on Sam and Liam, who have retorted to teasing me with our slightly unusual behavior.

“Are you scared of being outed suddenly?” Liam says with a wink, looking at Jen, who still can’t seem to pull her gaze away from mine.

“You didn’t see the mess we did yesterday?”

“What mess?”

I shake my head and sigh, before leading them a little farther on the set, away from the rest of the cast and crew, to sit on a small ledge. There, I tell them all about the article and my publicist’s suggestion, and the irksome consequences it’s been having on my mood all day.

“What sucks the most,” I realize just as I’m voicing it, “is that it’s keeping me from enjoying our last few days of shooting together. I know after this, I’ll only spend a handful of days filming with her in Berlin. And then...” I shrug my shoulders in defeat. “Who knows what’s gonna happen.”

“Get married?” Sam grins.

“No, have babies,” Liam laughs.

“Yeah, right,” I reply, turning my head to stare at her profile. She’s laughing out loud at something Natalie told her. I love to see her so carefree, so happy. These days, she’s almost always working, either filming or doing promotion work for her _X-Men_ movie that’s coming out soon. I know how much promo stresses her out, and so seeing her so relaxed makes me feel warm inside.

I wish I could see her smile like that more often. But apart from filming, we don’t have many opportunities to see each other, which is why I’ve always treasured those moments.

“You’re bothered because of him,” Sam says, suddenly very serious. I look down, a bit ashamed to admit that he’s right.

“I know it’s not fair,” I reply. “I knew what I was getting into. I know this is all much bigger than us.”

I pick at the grass absentmindedly, my heart tightening in my chest.

“I know if we can hold on long enough, it’ll be worth it,” I add. “But it still sucks that we can’t enjoy the little time we have together because of those damn paps.”

Francis gestures to us so we know it’s time to come back to get ready for the next takes. I’m glad for the distraction, as the discussion was getting too intense for my taste. And I hate letting it get to the point where I start whining about my life – I know I should be thankful for the relationship I have, even if it has to stay under wraps for a long time. Maybe it’ll be easier in Berlin.

We make our way to the main set, where Jen is standing next to a mat, waiting for her cue to lie down on it. I casually play with my prop gun, looking everywhere but at her, until she calls me on a playful tone.

“Hey, Josh!”

I turn to her and as soon as we lock eyes, she drops her gaze down and I follow her eyes to her fingers, which are set in a circle.

“Oh, fuck!” I let out, presenting her my arm so she can punch me, which she does with a proud chuckle. That game has become so obnoxious since we started doing it, yet I just love seeing her laugh and smile every time she catches somebody. And I can’t deny that it has brought a lot of joy among the team.

I look around us briefly, suddenly realizing how much I’ll miss these people when it’s over.

I try to focus on Francis’s instructions, and soon, we get ready to film the first take. I go through the motions, managing to pretend in my head that I’m not trying to kill her while still being convincing in my role. When the take is over, I drop to the mat to join Jen while we wait for Francis to give us his instructions for the next one. I’m careful to keep a safe distance between us, but the big smile she gives me is enough to fill my heart with joy anyway.

“There’s something on your mind,” she says, subtly motioning for me to scoot over. I slide a little closer to her and sigh.

“Not here.”

She nods, and the light in her eyes as she smiles at me makes it even harder to stay away. But I have to. We can’t afford a repeat of what happened yesterday.

“Let’s talk about this tonight,” I add, before dropping my voice to barely above a whisper. “Your room or mine?”

“Mine.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, as we lie in bed together, her naked body pressed against mine, I finally decide to address what’s been bugging me for a while.

“How come the paps knew all your whereabouts in London?”

She rises up, her leg finding a resting place between mine as she climbs on top of me to see my face. Her hand rests flat on my sternum as she drops her chin there, her other hand slowly caressing my cheek.

“You know how it works, Josh,” she replies, her voice low. She bites her lip and I know that my question makes her uneasy.

“He called them all the time?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think so. The first time, yes... you know how close he was to Bryan. We couldn’t risk him being dragged in the scandal, you know.”

I feel a rush of anger at her explanation. Somehow, it makes me mad that she seems to find more important to help him work on his image, which he put in jeopardy himself by associating with dubious people, than to preserve her own well-being. That she’s ready to sell her image to those paparazzi she hates so much, just for his own sake.

“You just... you looked so upset in some of the pictures,” I let out in a breath.

“Yeah... they were saying nasty stuff at us. Usual business,” she looks down, as if she was trying to hide her sarcastic smile.

I stroke her back gently, shaking my head. She deserves so much better than that.

“You know I would never do that, right? I would never call the paps without asking you first. Not that I call them often-“

“I know.” Her smile gets warmer. “Just when you need to put the media off the trail of our relationship?”

I don’t even have time to reply before her body slides over my chest as she pulls herself closer to my face, her lips embracing mine in a sweet kiss that is over too soon.

“These guys disgust me,” I say, wrapping my arms around her back.

“I thought you didn’t care about them?”

“Yeah, some are okay. But I hate the way they’re treating you sometimes. Like you’re an object, or a piece of meat. They can stalk me all they want. But you...” I sigh, and drop a kiss on top of her head. “I wish they’d just leave you the fuck alone.”

“Yeah. It sucks. But I’m learning to deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

She sighs, and starts leaving a trail of kisses along my jaw, before descending on the side of my neck.

“That’s how it works,” she murmurs, her mouth barely leaving my skin. “I hope you won’t have to deal with it anytime soon.”

“If we ever come out with our relationship...“

She raises her head suddenly, staring straight into my eyes.

“Don’t think about it.”

I swallow thickly, and nod, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I know we can’t come out. I know it’s not reasonable. I know that’s the last thing she needs.

But it doesn’t ease the pain. Not even a little bit.

 

* * *

 

 

**JENNIFER’S POV**

The plane ride to Cannes is pretty short. These last couple of days at work have been very busy, as we found ourselves a little behind schedule due to the bad weather we’d had earlier in the week. I’m glad for the break, even though I know tomorrow is gonna be exhausting.

I know Josh has been somewhat upset ever since the paps caught me with my face a little bit too close to his own. We’ve been fortunate that the story didn’t really get picked up by the media, but I know it’s not just pure luck – our publicists have been hard at work ever since they found out about the pictures. Still, I’m sad that he’s been a little more distant with me on set – although most of the time, despite his obvious efforts at staying away from me, he just can’t help it, just like me. I’m hopelessly drawn to him, which means that no matter how hard I try to give him space... it’s impossible. My gaze searches for him all the time, until I spot him and he locks eyes with me, even from afar. I have this need to find myself as close to him as I can, close enough to smell his personal, musky scent, and feel his warmth radiate to me. I crave the melodic sound of his deep voice whenever he speaks.

I’m so in love with him, it’s crazy. I didn’t think it would ever happen to me, to love somebody that much.

It took me a long time to acknowledge that the fluttering I had in my stomach when I saw him, that the bursts of happiness I would feel when thinking about him, that the yearning I had for his arms was more than friendly love. And then, after we first allowed ourselves to give in to our romantic feelings for each other, I got scared and messed up.

What a surprise. There’s nothing I do better in life than mess it all up. Putting my foot in my mouth more often than I can count. Being clumsy enough to fall just about everywhere, from red carpets to the fucking stairs leading to the stage at the Oscars. Freaking out when I start a relationship with my best friend, the man I love so deeply - and running back into the familiar arms of my ex because I’m too afraid that taking this next step would make me lose him eventually.

I was really blessed that Josh agreed to get over my mistake and start again. It’s been a little over six months now. Six months of leading a double life, pretending to be madly in love with another man, while my heart ached for the one who was waiting for me patiently in the shadows. These last few months, the pressure on my shoulders has been overwhelming. Everyone expects me to put on some sort of act for them: David, who considers me his muse and wants me at the center of all of his projects; the producers, who need me to be the perfect leading lady at all times; Nick, who quickly realized a few weeks into our "rekindled" relationship that I could never be as convincing as I was before our "breakup" – because unlike the first time, Josh was well into the picture now – but who still hoped I could help him improve his public image. Oh, there were perks for keeping up the charade, but I’m realizing more and more how much of a strain it is on my real relationship. How hard it is for Josh not to doubt his rightful place in my heart and in my life when I’m forced to kiss Nick at an award show or wander along the streets of London holding his hand and sporting a wide – albeit fake - smile.

And if I’m being honest, I’ll admit that it’s getting harder for me too. Not only witnessing his pain when I’m seen in public with Nick, but also knowing that I’d much rather be doing that with him instead.

But we both know we need to be patient. It’s better that way – for now.

We land in Cannes right before dinner. We’re first led to our hotel, where we’re to drop our things and change – although Josh has a room for himself, it’s a silent agreement between us that he’ll share my room, and so he follows me there. We barely have half an hour before we’re supposed to go back down to share a meal with the whole team at the hotel’s restaurant.

Josh walks to the window, taking a look at the scenery below. He seems lost deep in thought, and I stroll up to him, wrapping my arms around his torso and dropping my chin on his shoulder, pressing my body against his back.

“You’re so thoughtful,” I whisper in his ear. “What’s on your mind?”

He sighs, covers my hands with his and turns his face to look at me.

“I’m thinking about tomorrow. We gotta be careful, Jen. You know how much people talked back when we did promo for _Catching Fire_. We already have a strike against us with the picture the other day.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sigh. “I’m so tired, Josh.”

“After dinner we could go to bed early.”

“No, I don’t mean... I mean, I’m tired of hiding. Tired of pretending.” I lower my voice, resting my cheek on his shoulder, feeling the light fabric of his t-shirt. “It’s killing me.”

He looks down in defeat, before turning around in my arms and lifting his hands up to cradle my cheeks. His piercing gaze makes my heart melt – somehow he always has that effect on me, be it on set while he’s going around acting friendly with everybody, in an interview when I’m just listening to him articulating a long answer, or in the intimacy of a shared bedroom as we become serious and get lost in one another.

“How long will you drag it out again?” he breathes out.

I look down, unable to hold his hopeful stare.

“I don’t know yet. It’s not my decision to make.”

“Whose is it?”

“Our publicists.”

I hear him sigh, and he leans his forehead against mine.

“Jen... you must have a say in it, no?” he says in a gentle voice. I finally look up, and shake my head sadly.

“Not much. I agreed to it, Josh. I need to hold my end of the bargain.”

“Before the end of the year, at least?”

“Probably.”

His frown turns into a small smile.

“I can work with that.”

And with that, he captures my lips in a tender kiss, his thumbs softly caressing the skin of my cheeks. I hold onto his back tighter, melting in his arms, as I open my mouth to deepen the kiss. His hands trail down my neck, all the way to my chest, and I feel him slide his arms around my waist while I lace mine behind his neck. A bolt of electricity goes through my body upon his touch, and I sigh, running my hands through his hair while I back him into the nearest wall. His hands keep traveling downwards until he cups my ass, and I let my mouth wander on his neck.

“Jen...” he whispers, breathless. “Jen!”

“Hmmm?”

“Look at me.”

I look up. We’re both panting, and his face is flushed red.

“No more marks, okay? The last hickey is still visible. I hope no one will notice tomorrow.”

I nod, and he pulls me to him again for another kiss, before gently pushing me away, a sad look on his face.

“We need to get ready. Come on.”

I pout.

“Hey!” he adds, his face lighting up. “We’ve got all night!”

 

* * *

 

 

I wake up the next morning to the sun peeking through a thin space between the heavy curtains covering the large window in the room and a foot gently nudging my leg. I open my eyes and find myself staring at a pale chest, my fingers absentmindedly running through the light patches of hair covering it. His heart beats fast under my ear, and he’s tenderly rubbing my shoulder as I feel his mouth drop a kiss on my forehead.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers, his voice coarse and sounding delicious to my ears. I smile.

“Good morning, hun.” I cuddle closer into his body, breathing him in, trailing my fingers over his skin. “What time is it?”

“We still have half an hour before we’re supposed to go down for breakfast,” he smiles.

Half an hour. Long enough to cuddle for a few minutes, but not long enough for a quickie, if we’re to shower and get dressed. I’ve been starved for the feel of his body moving against mine ever since the day we got papped, and the tension is getting to me quite fast now. Last night, I had hoped we’d resume what we started before dinner, but we were both so exhausted that we dozed off almost as soon as we got back in our room.

I let my fingers travel along the side of his jaw, feeling the stubble that he’ll probably trim after we come back from breakfast, when we get ready for the photocall.

“I wish we could just have breakfast here, just you and me,” I whine, brushing my lips on the side of his neck. He sighs, and pulls me up on top of him, locking his arms around my naked back.

“Yeah. Me too. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe.”

I wish we’d have more time to spend alone, just the two of us together, after breakfast, but we have to attend a presentation of some movie footage to the distributors, and then we’ll be led to the location of the photocall.

We stay there, motionless, for a few minutes, before he reluctantly sits up, pulling me up with him. I know it will soon be time to pretend to be just friends. I’ll have to hold back around him, hide the effect that the mere sight of him has on me, put my attention somewhere other than him.

To us, it seemed as if I did a terrible job when we first had to hide the tentative steps of our rekindled romance during promotion for _Catching Fire_. I forgot too many times that we were in public and so that I couldn’t call him with pet names, kiss him in front of a reporter, have eyes only for him on the red carpets, whisper tenderly to him in the middle of a press conference, tell him point blank how much I actually loved him. We were lucky that the media never truly picked up on it.

But this time, I can’t afford to mess up. I already know Josh will be perfect; the pressure is on me, and me only.

“Come on,” Josh says, pushing me away from him to get up. “Let’s get ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

The closer we get to the hotel where we’ll attend the photocall, the tighter the knot in my stomach becomes. I stare out of the window of the car, focusing my attention on the passing scenery in hopes of forgetting everything that makes me anxious.

I loathe these public events. I always come off awkward, being terrified of doing or saying something inappropriate, and sadly for me, it’s much too early to have a drink in hopes to help calm my nerves. And to make things worse, they - the logistics people who oversee the whole thing – didn’t want Josh to arrive with me.

I have to be there earlier than everybody else, because they want me to change into a different outfit for the photocall. It’s a shame; I liked the dress my stylist had picked for the distributors meeting. I look down at the printed skirt, smoothing it over my thighs, and sigh. Liz, my publicist, looks up at me and smile. She probably figured out how nervous I am. She knows me well enough by now to pick up on it easily.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” she says, grabbing my hand in a reassuring gesture. “It’s just a photocall. You don’t even need to talk; they’ll just take pictures of you all.”

“I know. But I’m scared to fall down, or be too obvious with Josh... I mean, I think we did well at the distributors meeting, he spoke for all of us and I stayed behind, but this time...”

She smiles.

“It’s gonna be okay, Jen. Breathe.”

I nod, and take a deep breath, instantly feeling a little relieved. She’s right. Everything will be fine. I’ll worry about the press line and party later.

Once we make it to the back entrance of the hotel, Liz and I are rushed inside and led to a room on the twelfth floor, where an assistant is waiting for us along with Mark, my hairstylist.

“Hey!” I say, walking to them to hug them all. “What horror am I supposed to wear today?”

“Hello to you too, Jen,” Mark says in a chuckle. “I think you’ll like it.”

I walk to the bed, where the outfit is laid out. There’s a white skirt with a printed assorted crop top, along with a pair of nice heels.

“Oh, great! Josh is gonna lo-“

“Jen?” Liz interrupts me, and I’m immediately reminded of the strict orders I have to follow. As little contact with him as possible. I sigh.

“I know. Still.”

I look down, running a hand on the top to feel the soft fabric. The decision to keep distance between us originally came from Josh’s publicist, but I had discussed it with Liz as well the next day, and she had agreed with Melissa that this was the best course of action in the circumstances. She still had reassured me that this was likely just a temporary measure, though. Just long enough to make sure the attention of the media wasn’t focused on the nature of our relationship anymore.

Liz walks up to me and drops a hand on my shoulder. All of a sudden, I feel unexpected tears prickle at the corner of my eyes. I don’t know why I’m being so emotional about this.

“It’s getting hard, huh?” she says, pulling me into her arms for a comforting hug. I nod vigorously, closing my eyes to will the burst of sadness away.

“I want this shit to be over. I want nothing to do with him anymore. I see how hard it is for Josh... it’s breaking my heart, you know?”

“It’s painful for you too.”

I pull back, wipe the tears from my eyes, and bob my head in agreement. She gives me a small smile, rubbing my arm up and down.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“You know, Liz...” I bite my lip. “I can deal with hiding us. I don’t really want Josh and I to go public. I want to keep him – us – to ourselves. But I just... I can’t pretend to love him anymore, when I see how much it hurts Josh. He won’t say it out loud, but I know he’s hurt. I just... I can’t do this to him anymore.”

She nods.

“I’ll talk with Nick’s publicist.”

I give her a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

I manage a decent arrival at the photocall. No fall, no incident. Most of the rest of the cast is already there when I get out of the hotel. I exchange a wink with Josh, but Liz’s words resonate back in my head and I realize that as much as I would like to take my usual place by his side, it’s not safe. That’s why I begrudgingly make my way to Liam instead, squeezing myself between him and Sam.

“Don’t you want to pose with your boyfriend?” Liam leans in to tease me, his voice just loud enough for me to hear, but not enough for anyone else to make out what he says.

“Forbidden,” I answer simply, and he very subtly frowns. I put my attention back on the photographers as they yell at us – well, mostly me – to glance at them. When I see Sam lean forward from the corner of my eye, I instantly guess what he’s doing and catch his playful fingers, immediately following the move with a light punch on his arm and a genuine smile.

I’m glad the boys are helping me focus on something else. Because when I glance at Josh, I see that his face is set in a perpetual frown, and his eyes are lit off. He’s looking gorgeous with his light blue suit and opened-collar white shirt, but the lack of a smile on his features makes him look stern – and not himself.

I look back at the wall of photographers facing us, my gaze scanning left and right to satisfy them, until I’m asked to pose with my two main co-stars. The rest of the cast walks away, and Josh finally joins me, his strong arm locking around my waist, pulling me into his familiar embrace. We exchange a brief look, and I see his walls go down for a short moment, as affection gets back into his soft eyes.

Liam never grabs my hip the way Josh does, because he knows. He’s always known, even back then, way before there was anything serious between Josh and me. He would keep some distance, leaving us to our own bubble, and I’ve always been grateful to him for that. Because the only way I ever feel safe on a red carpet is with Josh’s protective arm around me. No one else’s.

His fingers land on the part of my midsection that’s uncovered by the top, and I sigh. I feel a rush of warmth at the spot where his fingertips caress me delicately. Josh doesn’t even look like he realizes what he’s doing, or the effect he has on me. No one can see him as Liam scoots a little closer to me, and we begin the round of pictures for the photographers.

Josh is quiet. Abnormally so.

When we’re done, I feel his hand slowly graze along the top half of my ass, and it takes all of my willpower not to grab his hand right there and lead him with me. He’s quick to join Liam, not even saying a word to me – he took the orders of his publicist to heart, it seems. Before I can let myself be upset further, Julianne walks up to me and we begin chatting about our recent shoot in Paris and our short stay here in Cannes.

I’m really glad for the distraction, and I know she somehow understood I needed it. My gaze keeps searching for Josh in the crowd, but he’s too far ahead for me to catch sight of his golden hair. I can’t help but be disappointed when I finally see him disappear in his assigned car as we make our way back to the hotel to change into more casual clothes.

I really need to talk to him.

I ask to be left alone in my room for a few minutes when we get back to the hotel. When I enter the room, I’m surprised to find that Josh is already there, still wearing his suit – minus the jacket – sitting on the bed, a vacant look in his eyes.

“Josh?” I say, walking to him and kneeling in front of him. “What’s wrong, hun?”

He shrugs and looks away.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“No. You weren’t your usual self out there. You didn’t smile. Is it because we had to be apart?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then what?”

I sense his hesitation. My hands find the soft fabric of his pants, covering his strong thighs, and I run them over it, catching his own hands when he lowers them to his lap.

“Did you see them panning out?”

“Panning out?” I frown.

“Yeah. Some of them were filming. And they were panning out on your body. Repeatedly. Pigs.”

I stand up and sit next to him. I hadn’t realized that. I was more focused on their screams than on what they were actually doing with their cameras.

“After what they did to you in London... stalking you, insulting you to get a rise out of you... I know it wasn’t them exactly, but... these photographers, they’re all the same,” he keeps ranting, talking with gritted teeth, and I grab his hand to calm him down. He looks up at me, and speaks in a soft voice. “I have no respect left for them after that.”

“So that’s why you weren’t smiling?”

He nods. I drop my head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t want to give them that satisfaction. They disgust me so much, Jen...”

“His team called them,” I finally confess in a low voice. “Almost all the time.”

I lift my head from his shoulder as he sharply twists his face towards me, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Even at night, when you were drunk?”

I slowly bob my head up and down.

“How do you think they found out we were attending a party at his friend’s house?” I chuckle darkly, looking away to hide my tears. “That’s how it works, Josh.”

“Hey.” He palms my cheek to force me to look into his precious, understanding eyes. His soft stare makes me feel a rush of warmth that appeases the pain somewhat. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

I can’t help the lone tear that rolls down my cheek, wetting his hand as he caresses my skin gently. I’m so, so tired of being at the center of these public relations games. But at the same time, I don’t know how to say “no”. I fear what could happen if I refused to play the game.

This is all so much bigger than me.

“Liz told me she’d try to help me find a way out of this sooner,” I finally say. His face lights up in a genuine smile.

“Now that’s some good news!”

I return his smile, before he lightly presses his lips against mine. I want to deepen the kiss, finally quench my thirst for him that’s been building up for days, right here, right now, but I know we don’t have time. I know we’ll be leaving each other for the afternoon, as we still can’t be seen together in public.

When we pull away, I notice his smile is even bigger, and in turn, it makes my own so much brighter.

“Will you have dinner with us on the yacht?” he asks, hope etched on his features.

I shake my head sadly.

“I can’t. I’ve got interviews and they’ll need time to style me for the night, and we don’t have time to go eat in the port and come back here early enough.”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed, but he shrugs it off. He’s about to add something when we’re interrupted by a knocking on the door. I walk up to open it and I find myself face to face with Liz, who quickly makes her way inside without even so much as a polite greeting.

I recognize her “event mode”: this is when she has to make sure my schedule is in order, and that I’m always at the right place at the right time. She literally turns into a machine when it happens. I exchange a smile with Josh, and he gets up, picks up his own clothes from their resting place on the bed, salutes Liz politely, and pulls me to him in passing. As he leans in for a short kiss, he speaks in a low voice.

“I’ll go back to my room. I’m leaving with Andre and my bodyguard. Text me, maybe? At least?”

“Of course.”

He smiles, and finally leaves the room. I feel so alone without him, even though I know I’ll see him again in just a few hours. I just can’t have enough of him.

“Are you okay?” Liz asks me, finally aware that I’m looking a bit upset.

“Yes. So, what’s the plan?”

“I called Nick’s publicist.”

The little enthusiasm I had managed to muster vanishes in a second. I cross my arms around my midsection, the stress invading me making my breath catch in my throat.

“So?” I say simply, unable to utter any more words.

She walks up to me. I immediately understand by her sad smile that she couldn’t do anything to get me out of it.

“It’s okay,” I pretend it doesn’t affect me that much. “I’m a good actress, I can keep it up.”

“Just a few more... weeks, Jen,” she says, her lips pinched in a tight line.

“Months, rather?”

She bites her lip and looks down.

“Until the DVD comes out.”

I sigh.

“Okay.”

“Jennifer... see it that way. It’s good for you and Josh too. As long as you’re with him in the eyes of the media...”

“Yeah, I know.”

I wish I could make her actually understand how tired I am of being forced to keep up the charade with Nick. How sad the fact that Josh has to witness this makes me. How not having the control over my life is driving me nuts.

But I’m mute. I can only pretend that I’ll be okay with it.

“Come on,” she says, pulling me farther into the room. “You need to give the outfit back. Dress into the black outfit that’s on the bed, and we’ll leave for the interviews after.”

I nod, lock myself into the bathroom with my new outfit and take a deep breath.

 

* * *

 

 

I share dinner with a lot of people I like: Julianne, Francis, Liz, Sam, Nina... but there’s one person missing and I can’t get him out of my head. I know he’s having a good time on the yacht with Liam and Andre, but his absence is weighing heavily on my mind, and I find myself unfocused for most of the meal. I finally decide to text him when it becomes too much.

JENNIFER: I miss you. Wish you were here with us.

His answer comes in a few seconds later, as if he had been waiting by his phone all that time.

JOSH: Miss you too. Can’t wait to see you. I love you. :)

I smile, but it quickly fades when I think of how I won’t be able to enjoy his company to the fullest tonight. Sam notices my discomfort and attempts to distract me, telling jokes and silly stories that make me smile, but nothing more. It works for a time, until we leave the restaurant and I’m brought back to my room to get ready for the party. There, the stress comes back tenfold, and the fact that I haven’t actually spoken to nor seen Josh since early this afternoon doesn’t help.

I envy Sam, because he has his wife accompanying him everywhere. I feel so alone, and I crave Josh’s presence so badly.

Only a few more hours before we can spend time just the two of us together.

“You’re doing great, Jen,” Liz tells me as I slip my dress on a little later, before Mark can style my hair. “It’s almost over.”

“I know. Still...”

“You’re gonna have a lot of fun at the party,” she adds, and I’m tempted to reply that I don’t see the fun in attending a party with my boyfriend when I’m not allowed to approach him within a ten-yard radius in case I go crazy and start going overboard with PDA with him. “You’ll have a VIP room-“

“VIP room?” I interrupt her, hope suddenly replacing the dread. “As in, no reporters?”

“VIP room. I haven’t seen what it looks like, but you should have some privacy,” she winks.

I know she’s understood my issues perfectly, and the thought of being able to hang out with Josh a little is a balm on my heart.

“But last year...” I bite my lower lip, remembering the fiasco that was the _Catching Fire_ party last year. I had hung out with Liam in that supposedly private VIP room – hung out with him wasn’t even the right expression, as I had spent the whole night texting Josh, who was busy filming in Panama at the time – and had woken up the next day to reports of me dating Liam because paps had managed to sneak in and take a bunch of pictures of us together.

And it turned out I was flashing my underwear in a few of the pictures. A nightmare, through and through.

“I know. There’ll be more security this time around. And the location of the place should keep the vultures away.”

“I hope so,” I say, sitting on the chair so Mark can begin his work on my hair. “I think Josh will love that dress,” I add, looking down at the blue, sheer fabric covering the lower part of the dress.

“ _Especially the cleavage_ ,” I think with a smile.

Once I’m deemed ready, the dread in my stomach is replaced with excitement. I just can’t wait to see him. Only a few more minutes.

The ride to the rented mansion where the party will go on takes about a half-hour. I doze off inside the car, and wake up when the driver parks it in front of the entrance. Liz motions for me to get out first, and when I open the door, I find Gilbert, my bodyguard, waiting for me by the car. I’m grateful for the arm he lends me because I’ll never be at ease walking in heels. Never.

My thoughts go back to Josh again, and even though I know I won’t see him in the crowd that’s waiting in front of the mansion, I can’t help but search for him.

As usual, I’m the last one to make an appearance on the red carpet, and as soon as I show up in front of the photographers, they start yelling my name. I recall what Josh told me earlier, and I try to tone down my smile, but I can’t help it: the idea of seeing him, likely all dapper in a suit, makes me too giddy to hold back. And so I smile for them, while I begin my long walk down the press line.

It’s then that I catch my first sight of him. He’s busy, in the middle of an interview, but he still turns around to see what the commotion is about, and when we finally lock eyes, my breath is taken away.

He looks even better than I imagined, with his blond hair slicked back and shining under the bright white lights, his dark blue suit – complete with a royal blue flower on his jacket that matches perfectly with my dress – his white, tie-free shirt, and the large smile that draws itself on his lips as I send him a secret message with my eyes.

“ _I love you_.”

He winks subtly at me, before giving his attention back to the reporter.

“Keep walking, Jen, we’ll start the interviews,” Liz says, gently pushing on my back to lead me to the first journalist. I shake my distraction away and address the first reporters, mustering a huge smile on my face as I answer their questions while trying not to look too silly.

I still can’t help but glance a little further down the line once in a while, catching occasional glimpses at Josh. His deep voice keeps resonating over the chatter that’s happening on the carpet, and I find myself having to make a conscious effort not to listen to him speak.

Finally, Liam joins me to lead me inside the mansion, with Gilbert following us not far behind.

“Where’s Josh?” I ask him, and he chuckles.

“He’s already there. Come on.”

I scan the crowd while we make our way inside. As soon as we’ve reached the main room, I spot an attendant, dressed as a Capitol character from the movies with flamboyant clothes, hairstyle and makeup, carrying a plate with several glasses of Champagne on it. I don’t even ask permission before grabbing a couple in passing and handing one to Liam.

“Do you see him?” I ask, before taking a large gulp of the bubbly liquid, which barely prickles my throat.

“Yeah, he’s talking with Francis, look.” He points out a group of people with his index finger. We skim through the crowd that’s dancing, chatting around, eating and drinking, until Francis’s eyes light up in recognition and he waves at us. Josh turns around, and when our gazes lock, he flashes me a warm smile that makes my insides twist in excitement.

I let Francis kiss me on the cheeks and hug Josh as if we were nothing more than friends. When I stand back up, I gulp down the rest of my glass, before trying to find another attendant in the crowd. Tonight, I’m having fun. I want to enjoy my night as much as I can. I want to let myself loose, if only a little.

And getting a little tipsy always helps with that.

Francis starts chatting with Liam but I don’t pay any attention to them.

“Here,” Josh says, and I turn to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He points in the opposite direction of the one I was looking at, and I finally spot a plate rapidly getting emptied by the guests.

“Oh, this is my cue!” I yell, rushing to meet the bizarrely-dressed man before his plate gets drink-free.

“Jen, wait!” I hear Josh call behind me. Once I’ve stopped in front of the guy, I smile at him, fetch a new glass from his plate and replace it with my empty one, right as I see a large hand grabbing the last full glass left. We stare at each other, and he winks at me as we both drink half of our glasses in one shot.

He then slides his arm around my waist to pull me closer to him, forcing me to lean in a little so he can speak in my ear.

“Come on, we have a VIP room, we should go.”

I bring my mouth to his ear and whisper back.

“As long as there’s booze...”

He chuckles, winks, and grabs my hand, leading me to the almost closed-off space where a few sofas lay around, a huge TV is hung to the wall, a DJ station stands at one end and white lights are strung, hanging off the ceiling. There’s a large dance floor in the middle, and a row of plush chairs lining the other wall. Once we get in, I notice that there are large windows separating us from the main area, but there is also a row of bodyguards – including our own - and personnel lining the transparent wall, increasing the privacy.

No chance for another scandal like last year. I like it.

We promptly finish our glasses and pick up a refill on our way to the couches. Josh crashes on the one that’s the farthest from the entrance, and I join him, making sure not to scoot too close to him. Despite the alcohol starting to make my mind increasingly foggier, I’ve still got enough sense left to know we need to be careful.

“So, how was your dinner?” he asks, leaning forward to get closer to me. I look around nervously, but no one is paying attention to us, so I quickly put my attention back on him. We must look like two regular people having an innocent chat, and not two lovers fighting the urge to jump into each other’s arms.

“It was okay. The food was good. But I missed you.”

He smiles at me and grabs my hand between both of his. He doesn’t reply, but I can read his answer in his shining eyes. After a few seconds, I can’t hold his gaze anymore, and so I turn my attention back to my glass of Champagne, of which I take a large swig. Suddenly, the DJ switches to a song I recognize instantly.

“Oh, Josh! It’s _I Wanna Dance With Somebody_! Come on!”

In one swift move, I put my glass on a table and drag him with me on the dance floor. We begin dancing in rhythm with the music, shouting the lyrics as loud as we can. I exchange happy looks with him, and notice Liam entering the room at one point, settling on a couch with his drink and staring at us with a silly smile.

I look at Josh in awe when I realize that he knows all the lyrics by heart. I shouldn’t be surprised though, he always knows his lines much better and quicker than me when we’re working. His face takes on that concentrated look as he’s singing the lyrics loudly, acting like he was starring in a music video.

“ _Oh! I wanna dance with somebody / I wanna feel the heat with somebody / Yeah! I wanna dance with somebody / With somebody who loves me!”_ We sing in unison, leaning into each other, moving in sync, until the end of the song.

“That was fucking nice!” I say with a large smile, grabbing Josh’s arm to avoid falling over. I’m starting to feel a little dizzy, but I’m still not drunk enough. As we walk back to the couch, grabbing a couple of drinks in passing, the first notes of _Blurred Lines_ start playing, and Liam takes the chance to show off his dance moves. Josh and I sit on the couch, much, much closer than earlier, our thighs touching, his hand lying casually on the soft silk fabric covering my knee, and we cheer on our friend as loud as we can. I chuckle upon watching him – he’s definitely a clumsy dancer – and I exchange a loaded gaze with Josh. I look around us quickly, realizing that once again, no one is observing us. He must have caught on what I was doing because he lets his hand travel down my leg until he can scoop up the bottom of my dress, and he slides it up so his fingers rest on my naked skin. He starts tracing delicate circles with his thumb, and it sends a pleasant tingle directly between my legs. I sigh, down half of my drink in one sitting, and lean back into the cushion, my mind suddenly becoming muddled.

Josh leans in above me, hiding me with his stocky body, and speaks in a low voice.

“Are you okay?”

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I nod quickly, before smiling at him in return. His hand trails even higher up my thigh, sliding underneath the dark fabric of my main skirt. I take a deep breath, trying to will the butterflies in my stomach to go away.

He brings his face closer to mine, enough so that I can almost taste in his mouth the flavor of the Champagne he’s been drinking. The smell adds to my haze, and I lean in, my lips almost making contact with his, until I suddenly remember where we are and how we shouldn’t be doing that.

“We’re playing with fire, Josh,” I whisper. His lips briefly brush mine, gently, teasingly, and I run my hand over his arm. His hand is still drawing patterns under my skirt, and I feel his fingers get dangerously close to my damp panties. I close my eyes, feeling his breath on my neck, and this time, I totally forget that we’re not alone.

Or I just decide not to care anymore.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he murmurs, leaning close to my ear. To anyone looking from afar, we probably just look like two good friends trying to hear each other over the banging sound of the music playing in the room. But if anyone was close enough to truly observe us, they’d see that Josh’s mouth isn’t forming words. Rather, it’s nibbling and sucking at my earlobe, blowing air on my exposed skin, making shivers run down my whole body.

When he finally pulls away, his face looks even more crimson under the reddish light of the room. The song is about to end, and Liam joins us, dropping on the couch next to me.

“Hey lovebirds, get a room,” he teases with a large smile.

“Ha, ha, ha,” I answer, gulping down the last of my drink and putting the empty glass on the table. “Come on, Josh. Let’s get a room... This one.”

I pull him with me on the dance floor, as the first notes to _Work It_ start to resonate through the room. I plunge my gaze into his, taking in the lust that immediately settles into his beautiful, darkened eyes. We both know how erotic that song is. We both know we could get in so much trouble for what we’re about to do.

But when I turn around and he settles behind me, pressing his chest against my back, it’s obvious that neither of us cares. He drops his chin on my shoulder, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me even closer to him. I raise my arms above my head, planting a hand into his golden locks as he turns his face into my neck. I feel his sharp intake of breath, which makes me shudder with desire. As we begin moving in rhythm with the music, I turn my head slightly to lock eyes with him. He’s staring at me with half-lidded eyes, his mouth impossibly close to my skin. We sway together along to the music, and I close my eyes, focusing on the warmth of his tender embrace. It doesn’t take long before I start to feel his hard-on, round against my backside, and I grind my butt on it to tease him some more. He releases a long breath over my neck, his lips grazing my skin invitingly.

This is getting dangerous. It is. But I love it.

All of a sudden, I turn around in his arms, taking him by surprise. He keeps a hand on my hips, and I start backing him into the corner, eyeing a lone chair sitting there in the dark. He stares at me, barely comprehending what’s happening, until the back of his legs hit the chair and he’s forced to drop into it. I begin moving around him, leaning in front of his face as we mouth the words to the song in tandem.

“ _See my hips and my tips, don't you / See my ass and my lips, don't you / Lost a few pounds and my waist for you / This the kinda beat that go ra-ta-ta / Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta_ ”

He keeps staring at me in awe, and I feel bold, sexy. I turn around, scoop up the silky piece of fabric covering my skirt, part my legs over his, and bend in front of him, giving him a nice view of my almost-twerking ass. I shake my butt over him, looking over my shoulder to take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look more aroused ever, which encourages me to keep moving, tease him even more, lead him to lose control.

I feel his gaze racking me up and down, and his hands graze my sides. In that moment, there’s only me and him in the room, us both and the music playing in the background of our game of tease. It feels like retaliation for the way he got me all hot and bothered on the couch, and I relish in the fact that I’m quickly making him go crazy with desire.

I shake my butt over him some more, before turning around and climbing on his lap. I rub my center on his obvious bulge, and he cups my ass, without a care for the world. Soon, I sense a presence behind me, and see Josh looking up. I twist around and spot Liam, who’s standing there behind me, acting like a privacy shield as I still grind slowly on Josh’s lap. When I’m confident that no one else is looking at us, I lean in and finally capture Josh’s lips with mine.

I’m just deepening the kiss, welcoming his eager tongue into my mouth, when the song comes to an end and we both come back to our senses. I look around us, relieved that no one but Liam is paying attention to us – and even he is looking away – before looking back at Josh and placing one last kiss on his lips.

“Come on,” I say, quickly getting off his lap and smoothing my dress.

He gets up after me, pulling me to him by the waist and leaning in to speak in my ear.

“You’re not gonna leave me like that, are you?”

I look down at the obvious bulge in his crotch and smile, before whispering in his ear.

“Payback is a bitch, Hutch,” I wink.

“I can’t believe you gave him a lap dance in public,” Liam shakes his head, a large grin on his face.

“Come on... no one saw us. Did you see that wall of meat over there?” I point the row of bodyguards still posted next to the entrance. “Not a chance. And it was too dark. And you were there!”

“Yeah,” he looks away, the smirk not leaving his lips. “You’re lucky I was there.”

Suddenly, a voice speaks louder than every other one in the room.

“BIEBER IS AT THE VANITY FAIR PARTY!”

I exchange a look with Josh, my eyes getting wide.

“Josh! We have to go! Come on!”

I try to pull him by the arm, but he doesn’t budge, instead staring at me with a judgmental stare.

“What?”

“Really? He’s not worth it.”

I know he knows him much better than I do, given that he’s such good friends with his ex. But still. In my liquor-filled brain, it seems like a good idea. And if he doesn’t want to come with me, then so be it. I’m going anyway.

In the end, he follows me, along with Liam, Sam and Laura, and our bodyguards. We all walk to the neighboring party, where Liz is waiting for me with the outfit I wore this afternoon and that I have to parade in for the night.

Thank God, it’s the last one.

Josh is about to follow Liam so he can mingle in with the crowd, but I’m not going to let him do that just yet.

“Oh no, no, no,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him with me. He wobbles on his feet, before following me, a beaming smile on his lips. “You come with me.”

“Alright,” he says with a mischievous smile.

Liz leads us to a dressing room, handing me the black jumpsuit. I expect her to walk in with us, but instead, she winks and shuts the door after we enter the room. I turn on the light, revealing a large space with white-painted walls, a long table propped against the wall, and a couch at the other end. I drop the outfit on the table as Josh turns around to face me, a playful smile lighting up his features.

I clench my thighs in anticipation when he walks towards me, backing me into the table with a predatory look in his lust-filled eyes. He slides his arms around my waist, trapping me between the edge of the wooden surface and his solid body. I suddenly feel very dizzy under the heavy weight of his gaze. My arms lock around his neck naturally as he finally presses his hot lips against mine, filling me with a euphoric sensation I hadn’t realized I was craving that much. I instantly part my lips to let his curious tongue in. He pulls me into him just enough so he can trail his hands down my backside, cupping my ass to lift me onto the table. I bunch up the fabric of my skirt to welcome him between my exposed thighs. My limbs lock around his sturdy frame of their own accord, as I begin to acknowledge how starved I am for him.

His hands travel along my shoulders as he lets me go just long enough to remove his dark blue jacket, throwing it on top of my new clothes. I begin undoing the buttons on his shirt as fast as I can, a sudden need to see his chest, feel the hair lining it, and smell the scent of his cologne overwhelming me.

“You know you were driving me crazy with that opened collar shirt this morning,” I mumble in between kisses. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replies, unzipping my dress and helping me take my arms out of it. He then nuzzles his face into my neck, gently licking and sucking on my flesh – but not hard enough to leave marks.

“Nonsense.” I breathe out a loud sigh, grasping a fistful of hair at the base of his neck, careful not to mess his whole hairstyle. “Did the hickey fade in time?”

He rises up, smiles and twists his head on the side, exposing his neck to me. I run my fingers on the fading bruise, taking in the uneven patch of hair outlining the purplish tint still visible on his pale skin.

“Hopefully no one noticed,” he replies, getting closer to me. I untuck his shirt from his pants to slide my hands under the fabric, feeling the faint definition of his muscles under my fingers. He captures my mouth once again, before strangely pulling away, shaking his head as he looks at the floor.

“I’m not drunk enough to do that,” he says, buttoning his shirt back.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll get caught, Jen. We’ve been taking too many chances already.”

I sigh, jump off the table and walk up to him. He grabs the black outfit and hands it to me, an indifferent look on his face. I pout as I finish taking off the blue dress, making no move to grab the other garment. Instead, I strut in front of him in just my underwear, cradling his cheeks as he takes a deep breath.

“I don’t care. We’re alone, now. We’ve got time-“

“Yeah, anybody could find us here...”

I close my eyes and lean in to kiss him again. This time, he doesn’t try to fight it, instead pulling me into his arms, feeling my naked body with his large palms, devouring my mouth with his own.

I want him so badly. There’s still a little part of me that’s not completely wasted and that tells me we’re about to make a mistake. That he’s right that we’ll get caught. But I’ve been lusting after him all night; I’m not gonna pass this opportunity of sharing a lone intimate moment with him.

But he comes back to his senses soon enough, his lips pulling off mine slowly, his forehead coming to a rest on my own as our breaths mingle together.

“Later,” he whispers. “Let’s stay for a little bit, and leave as soon as we can.”

I nod slowly, a little disappointed but knowing that it’s the best solution.

“Okay.”

“Hey,” he says, cupping my face. “I love you.”

I smile.

“I love you too.”

I finally take the new outfit, a simple-looking black jumpsuit with a golden belt, and put it on, just in time as we hear a pounding knock on the door.

“Jen!” Liz says on the other side of the door. “If you wanna meet him, it’s time!”

I exchange a look with Josh, who shakes his head but can’t hide the smile on his face.

“Come on.”

I grab his hand and lead him to the door. Before leaving, I kiss him one last time.

“Don’t leave me alone out there,” I whisper, the anxiety of the public outing coming back in full force at the idea that we could get separated. He nods. “I need you.”

“Alright. But don’t expect me to stay around while you meet him.”

I shrug, and finally open the door, to find a concerned looking Liz, who’s staring at her watch while holding a pair of heels in her hands. She looks up at us, a knowing grin on her face. I notice Gilbert is standing right behind her, looking away at the sight of Josh and I together.

“We’re looking good?” I ask, glancing at Josh who seems to be searching for something in the hallway while he’s still holding to my hips.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he finally lets out, heading in the direction where he likely spotted one. “I’ll see you later.” His hand gently caresses my backside as he leaves, and after I’ve put the shoes on, Liz leads me to the main area. A photographer stops us on our way there, and I take the time to pose, fighting hard to stand straight.

On our way to the main room, Liz stops me.

“Make sure not to get photographed with him. He’s not good for your image. At least, right now.”

I nod.

“Oh, okay.”

We make our way into the crowd, and an attendant motions to Liz to come over. We meet her quickly, and she leads us into another corner of the room, where I finally spot him talking with someone.

“Hey!” I say, looking for something to say. “I’m so happy to meet you!”

He gives me a bored smile, but at least he looks like he doesn’t mind.

“That’s great,” he says.

“It’s true, I’m such a big fan of yours!” His smile gets wider, and he nods. “You’re really cute in that outfit, by the way!”

“Well, thanks!” he says simply.

There’s a heavy silence, and suddenly, the lady he was talking to breaks it, all giddy.

“You should take a picture together!”

“Oh...”

Liz looks at me with big eyes.

“No, not this time,” I say, trying to find a good excuse. “I don’t want to make this official or anything. This is a... real life kind of thing.”

The girl nods, barely looking convinced, but Bieber takes the opportunity to wish us a good night, and go away. Liz gently taps my back to reassure me that I did well. I start scanning the crowd.

“Where’s Josh?”

She shrugs her shoulders, looking around. There are so many people, I can’t spot his blond hair anywhere. Anxiety starts to fill me, and I walk slowly through the crowd. He must be looking for me too. Suddenly, I recognize Alfonso Cuaron, standing near the exit to the terrace, and I start screaming for him, before running as fast as my heels will let me, Liz and Gilbert following me as quick as they can.

“AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! I broke out my rape scream for you!”

He turns around and gives me a huge grin.

“Jennifer Lawrence!” He says, kissing my cheeks. “So nice to meet you!”

“I’m so happy! You know I’d love to work with you so much!”

“Ah, so would I,” he answers with a wink.

I chat with him some more, congratulating him on his Oscar, before someone else takes his attention away, and I turn back to Liz, who’s staring at me with a definite look of unease on her face. I frown.

“What?”

“A rape scream, Jen?”

“Oh, come on, there’s nothing there. And besides, no one heard me, right?”

She bites her lower lip.

“Right?” My face falls. Did I put myself in trouble again? Oh, God. I need a drink.

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

I take a deep breath. And then it starts.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

My upper body juts sharply.

“I’ve got the hiccup. Is there water somewhere?”

Liz and Gilbert start looking around, and they’re soon met by a few Lionsgate attendants.

“Seriously,” I say as another tremor rocks my body. “I need some water now.”

Gilbert stares at me with a frown and I explain with a smile.

“The only thing that ever works to get rid of hiccups for me is when I drink water and raise my arms over my head and lower them very slowly.” I raise my arms to illustrate my point, and another bout of hiccup hits me.

I look around me and notice that the Lionsgate attendants are frantically searching for water. One of them shows up with a bottle, but they want to find a glass.

And then, unexpectedly, he’s there in front of me, holding the bottle to my lips, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Go ahead,” Josh says as I lift my arms over my head. The cold liquid starts to pour down my throat, but only he knows the pace I need for this to work. It’s not the first time it happens to me – and it’s definitely not the first time he assists me in getting rid of it.

While I lower my arms, our eyes don’t leave each other’s. I wish I could tell him how happy I am that he’s finally there with me, and that we get to spend this night together.

After a few minutes, I’ve completely lowered my arms, and the bottle is almost empty. Josh and I stare at each other for a moment, expecting the hiccups to come back, but when it becomes clear that it’s gone, he opens up his arms and hugs me tightly. I whisper in his ear.

“Where were you?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m here now,” he murmurs in my ear.

“You better not leave me again.”

“Careful what you wish for.”

We pull apart, and I chuckle. We gaze at each other briefly, and I know he understood my silent message.

“ _I love you.”_

I resume my search for a drink, spotting an attendant nearby walking with a plate full of wine glasses. I grab a couple, hand one to Josh, and we stroll together in the middle of the crowd, looking for a quieter place to sip our drinks. I spot an area on the terrace with a bunch of round bistro-style tables and chairs, and without another word, we pick a table and sit there, next to each other. Gilbert knows better and stays in the shadows, while Liz seizes the opportunity to take a bathroom break.

“It’s so much better than last year,” I say, taking a gulp of wine.

“Why so?” he smiles.

“First of all, because I can talk to you without having to go through a phone screen.”

He looks around, before dropping his hand on my lap, which is hidden by the table. His fingers caress my knee over the fabric of my pants, and the warmth that travels my body with his touch makes me forget where we are for a second.

“Also, because there aren’t as many photographers.”

His hand travels higher, and when he squeezes my thigh gently, I startle. We exchange a loaded look, and he speaks on a low voice that makes my insides burn.

“How long do you want to stay here?”

I swallow thickly. I’m not imagining the lust in his eyes, the tension that’s suddenly back in full force between us as I lower my hand under the table to cover his. His gaze quickly drops to our entwined hands, and he lets out a deep breath, before focusing his attention back on his glass and taking a swig out of his wine. He then looks back at me, expecting my answer.

“As much as I enjoy this party... there’s another place I’d much rather be.”

My voice is hoarse, husky, reflecting the burst of desire invading me as I suddenly picture us going back to our hotel room together.

“I’m still not over what you did over there,” he says softly, subtly bringing his chair closer to mine.

I breathe heavily, and allow my fingers to travel along his thigh until I can feel the evidence of his desire in the form of an obvious bulge lightly straining the fabric of his pants. He gasps when my hand cups his erection, and I smile widely, caressing it gently.

“Oh, God, Jen,” he whispers, looking down in an attempt to hide the effect my touch has on him. “Stop. We can’t do this in here.”

“Then let’s go somewhere we can,” I suggest. He looks up.

“Isn’t it a bit early to leave?”

“I don’t care.”

We don’t even need to discuss this further. We both finish our drinks, before walking up to Liz and Melissa, who were apparently looking for us. Our bodyguards follow us from afar, chatting randomly together.

“We’re leaving,” I say simply, grabbing Josh’s hand.

“Alright,” Melissa says, leading us to the exit. On our way, we cross paths with Liam, who’s been talking with Robert Pattinson for most of the night. When he sees us get out of the villa, he literally jumps from his seat and jogs to us, blocking our way out.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He stares at us with a fake scowl, his arms crossed and his foot lightly tapping on the floor, as if he was truly waiting for an explanation. But it’s obvious that he doesn’t need one. He knows us well enough to figure out why we’re not interested in staying here any longer.

As I’m about to retort with a snarky answer, he leans in to hug me, and does the same with Josh afterwards.

“I’m just kidding,” he says in a low voice that only Josh and I can hear over the loud sound of the music playing all over the property. “Have a good night, you two. Be safe.”

He winks at me, and I shake my head in response.

“Pffft, whatever. Come on, let’s go,” I say, grabbing Josh’s hand again and walking into the night. He twists around to wave at Liam, and we quickly make out way to the cars waiting for us, our teams following us a little behind. I get in the backseat of the car, and Josh quickly gets in next to me.

While we’re on the road, I lean my head on Josh’s shoulder, willing the slight nausea I feel to go away. I find my mind especially foggy as I focus my attention on Josh’s fingers tracing patterns on the back of my hand, and I suddenly lift my head, startling him.

Without a word, I begin undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You should have worn it with the collar open, like this morning,” I reply, trailing my fingers along the side of his neck, down to his now exposed chest. “God, you’re so sexy.”

He chuckles.

“Thank you? But then, how would you have been able to hold back if I’d been...” he leans in for a short kiss. “Too sexy?”

“I’d manage.”

His hands find my thighs, and I grab his face to capture his lips in a sensual kiss. He quickly opens his mouth, letting my tongue taste the remnants of the wine he drank before we left the party. I try to scoot a little closer, feeling the warmth from his side transfer to my own. I pull away and take a deep breath.

“I can’t wait to get to the hotel.”

 

* * *

 

 

When I get out of the car, I find myself a little tipsy from all the alcohol I drank tonight, but Josh is quick to help me stand, his arm snaking around my waist as if we were walking a red carpet together. We enter the hotel through the Employees’ entrance and hastily stride to the elevators. We don’t have to wait for long before a pair of doors opens in front of us, and we sneak inside, no one in sight to catch a glimpse of us.

The elevator is empty, and so I take the opportunity to fling myself into Josh’s arms, crashing my lips against his in an attempt to release all the sexual tension that’s been building up between us since we were forced to interrupt our make out session earlier. His tongue is deliciously teasing my lips, while his prying hands caressing my butt make me want to melt in his embrace. I don’t even care that I moan loudly when I feel his budding erection brushing my center through our clothes as he pulls me even closer to him. We briefly lose balance, which throws us both into a momentary bout of laughter, until I regain my senses and run a hand through his blond locks while his mouth descends down the side of my neck, trailing hot kisses that fill my body with a sensation of bliss.

I hear the elevator doors open behind us, and he glances outside, before dragging me with him to our room. As he digs in his pocket for the card, I drop my face in the hollow of his neck, peppering his skin with kisses that make him sigh.

“Will that damn door open...” he mumbles, angling his neck to give me better access. The door finally responds to the card, and I follow him as he stumbles forward. Once the door closes behind me, he turns around and pushes me against it, pressing my body between his chest and the wooden surface as he fumbles to remove his blue jacket. I kick off my heels, finally standing at his height, and lock my arms around his neck. His mouth chases mine desperately, and I force him to walk backwards in direction of the couch, the closest surface on our way in. He comes to a halt there, bends down lightly to remove his shoes, and I begin working on undoing the remaining buttons on his white shirt. As soon as I’m done, I push it off his shoulders, revealing his muscular chest and bulky arms, the mere sight of which makes me feel tingles inside. He then gropes for the zipper on my back, pulling it down as I unclasp the belt around my waist, and he finally helps me out of the pantsuit. I stand in front of him wearing just my underwear, and he pulls me to him, leaning down to burrow his face in my boobs, cupping, kissing, sucking on them through the fabric of my black, strapless lacy bra.

I stretch my arms down to reach his belt buckle and start undoing his pants, releasing a deep moan as he pulls one of my breasts out of the cup and starts sucking and gently biting on my nipple. His pants fall down on the floor, and I make out the outline of his length, straining against his boxers. He straightens up, leaving a trail of kisses on his way up, until he’s reached my throat.

“Come here,” he whispers, sliding an arm under my butt and lifting me up as if I weighed nothing. I cross my legs around his back, my mouth capturing his for another kiss as he carries me to the couch. He gently lays my body on it, removes my soaked panties, and climbs on the cushions, lying down between my legs as his intention becomes clear.

“ _Your girl actin' stank then call me over / Not on the bed, lay me on your sofa / Phone before you come, I need to shave my chocha / You do or you don't or you will or won't you / Go downtown and eat it like a vulture.”_

The song begins playing in my head again, and I’m thrown back in my mind to that dark room from earlier, the red lighting making his face look even more flushed, his reaction to my dancing empowering me and making me crave his body like crazy.

And so when his lips make contact with my clit, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes for a while, focusing only on the pleasant sensations his skillful mouth brings me. His tongue laps hungrily at my wet pussy as if he were starving – which I guess he was, in a way. I thrive on the feeling of his lips encasing my clit, applying just enough pressure to fill me with sparks and make me see stars. I feel him part my folds with one hand, and slide the other up my belly until he catches my wandering hand, lacing his fingers through mine. I moan loudly as I sense that I’m getting closer to the edge.

“Oh my God... Josh...” I cry out. “Please...”

I look down at him and find him staring at me with a mischievous smile. He then focuses his attention back to what he was doing, pushing his fingers into me as he sucks harder on my bundle of nerves. I start trembling, prompting him to press on my hips to keep me down on the couch.

I want to let go, I do. I want to abandon myself to his talented mouth, feel the wave of pleasure invade my body, embrace that release I’ve been craving all night long.

But at the same time, I wish I could stay like this forever, with his face between my legs, his light stubble grazing the inside of my thighs, his warm breath setting my private parts on fire.

But he has other plans. As he increases the speed of his fingers thrusting into me, I start panting loudly, and suddenly, I feel my muscles clench around him, while a powerful wave of ecstasy rushes through me. Eyes wide shut, I come hard, and when I open them again, he’s making his way back up, licking and kissing every inch of my skin, and I run my hands through his hair, reveling in its softness under my fingertips. As his face settles on my neck, I notice his musky smell, so familiar, and in that moment, I just want to stay in his arms, bask in his warmth, enjoy the weight of his body covering mine.

But we’re not done yet. Oh, no.

I sit up straight, pulling him with me, and when he’s reached a sitting position, I climb on his lap, straddling him. He removes his boxers awkwardly, finally freeing his hard member. I start by lacing my arms around his shoulders and pressing my lips against his, begging him for entrance, to which he obliges quickly. As I let my tongue explore all the corners of his mouth, I rub my center gently on his cock, the pleasant sensations quick to return after my orgasm. He cups my ass as I keep kissing him, pressing me even closer to his body. I lift myself up just enough to align with his member and pump it a few times, eliciting a low growl from him that sparks a burst of warmth in me, and as I sink onto it, I let out a deep sigh.

Finally. After building up tension all night, finally we’re able to connect, finally I feel like I can truly make him feel good, finally it’s just the two of us. No more fear of getting caught. No pretending whatsoever.

As we begin to move and find a rhythm, I lean in to sing in a low voice in his ear.

“ _Sex me so good I say blah-blah-blah / Work it, I need a glass of water / Boy, oh, boy, it's good to know you._ ”

Surprised, he stops moving for a moment, as I pull back to see his face. There’s a beaming smile on his features, and he grabs my cheeks with his hands to pull me to him for a kiss, as he slowly resumes his thrusts.

“I love you so much,” he says, his hands trailing down my back. “You’re so sexy, honey. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

I wink, before attempting to increase the pace of our coupling. His stubble grazes my right shoulder continually as he sucks delicately on my skin, the thud of our flesh slapping against one another filling the room. I focus on the luscious grunting sounds he makes in response to his cock plunging over and over inside my vagina, and it turns me on even more. I grab the back of the couch for leverage, and soon, I know he’s getting close. His breath gets shorter, his moans louder, his rhythm, more erratic.

I press my lips to the side of his neck, murmuring just for him.

“Come for me, Josh... I love you.”

A few seconds later, he begins thrusting even deeper, with slower strokes, and I know this is it. His mouth rests idly on my shoulder as he rides the waves of his orgasm, and I gently tug on his hair, forcing his head backwards so I can kiss him again.

After a while, he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up with him. We walk to the bathroom, where we clean ourselves up, and we don’t even bother with clothing before we lie down on our bed. I curl up into his side, and he caresses my back gently.

“We definitely played with fire tonight,” he says after a while. I lay my leg between his and raise my head up, resting it on his chest so I can take in his concerned face.

“No one really paid attention to us. It was dark, there was security-“

“Melissa told me there were reporters. And one in particular, who’s been paying a lot of attention to us all night.”

My heart starts beating faster. I swallow thickly, running my fingers through his sparse chest hair in an attempt to clear my mind from the scary thoughts his admission just brought me.

“You really think she’s gonna write about us?”

“No. Probably not. But Melissa said she looked ecstatic and kept taking notes.”

“Of course, that’s her job-“

“She was taking notes when we were in the VIP room, Jen.”

The realization, the one I was trying to deny, starts to dawn on me. All this time I thought we were safe, it turns out there were people observing us, trying to make a story out of our more-open-than-usual behavior. I sigh and lay my cheek on his chest, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

“Our publicists are gonna deal with it tomorrow,” he adds. “Just... don’t be surprised if it comes out.”

“It’s my fault Josh, I’m so sorry...”

“Stop it. It’s not. I played into it too. I wanted it too. Hell, I told you already, I’m so tired of hiding, Jen. So, so tired.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me higher. “Come here.”

I scoot closer, resting my head on his shoulder, and he kisses my forehead lovingly.

“I have absolutely zero regrets,” he murmurs. “Do you?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then it’s okay. We’ll figure it out later.”

 

* * *

 

 

I wake up the next morning to the annoying sound of Josh’s ringtone. He stirs a little, before getting up to retrieve it from the pocket of his pants, which he had discarded somewhere on the floor of the room in the midst of passion last night.

I sit up a little straighter, observing him as he answers the call. He’s facing away from me, exposing his perfect bubble butt to me, and I briefly consider getting up to meet him and press my front against his naked back, run my hands down his chest until I reach his erect member, start stroking him until he can’t speak anymore...

But when I see his shoulders sag in defeat, and he turns around to face me, a sad look tainting his features, I know there’s something serious going on. When he finally hangs up, he walks back to the bed and sits on the edge next to me, hiding his face in his hands.

“What’s wrong, hun?” I ask, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He puts his hands back down, staring sadly at the floor.

“Melissa. We messed up, Jen. Big time.”

“That much?”

“Well...” he looks up at me. “You know that reporter I was talking to you about last night?”

“Yes...”

“She wrote about the lap dance you gave me. And the fact that we left together, holding hands. “

My heart stops beating for a second. In the middle of the night, while I was resting between his comforting arms, it was easy to dismiss the threat, to think that no one would be interested in our behavior. But now, with the morning well in, my head free of the alcohol cloud it was drowning in last night, and the very real news that a journalist reported our behavior, it’s easier to see that we were wrong.

“It could have been worse, though,” he adds. “Mel and Liz talked her out of writing that we’d cozied up on the couch and you actually climbed on my lap to kiss me. And got her to add that you were holding my hand ‘in a friendly manner’ or whatever.”

“A friendly hand-holding?” I chuckle. “What is this shit?”

“Apparently it’s gonna help make it look as if we’re just friends.” He manages a small smile on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “What do you think?”

He turns to face me, and I lean my head on his shoulder, grabbing his hand in passing. I shrug.

“I think maybe... it’s a blessing in disguise.”

He sighs.

“I would too. But we both know it’s bigger than us. We both know you need to keep up the charade with Nick, you don’t have a choice.”

“What about Claudia?”

He bites his lower lip.

“I hate hurting her,” he says in a low voice. “I really like her. I feel like an asshole though cause I think she might still hope there could be something deeper between us. And there’s the fact that her whole family and friends believe we’re dating for real... oh fuck. If they see that, they’re gonna think I’m cheating on her...”

“I’m so sorry, Josh.”

“It’s okay. It was bound to happen someday, right? Though we didn’t help things.”

He’s right. I recall his publicist’s call when we were in Paris, after I acted a little too cozy with him at work. It seems so long ago, not just a few days back. We were supposed to lay low. But we were naive and thought we could attend a public event and not garner any attention on us.

“I trust our publicists. They’ll know what to do to get us out of this.”

“What if we really have to stop seeing each other?”

That idea hits me like a punch in the gut. I shake my head frantically.

“No. I refuse that. We’ll find a way.”

We just need to get the situation under control again. And it starts with making an effort to be convincing with our official significant others – despite the fact that we both only crave each other’s presence.

And then, one day, hopefully soon, we’ll be able to act like a normal couple.

A simple dance won’t throw us into hot water ever again.


End file.
